


So This Is Christmas

by Pluppelina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Sebastian, Gentle D/S, M/M, Whipping, trust building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: Now that he's sat there, on Jim's bed, and Jim is kneeling in front of him, there's no room left for anything other than what they've already agreed on.





	

It took him days to convince Jim to go ahead with this - days of telling him that, no, he wasn't going to be disrespectful and no, he wasn't going to try anything that Jim didn't normally enjoy, and no, he wasn't about to humiliate him. There was compromise at every turn, and in the end, Sebastian doubted that he'd even enjoy the finished product... But now that he's sat there, on Jim's bed, and Jim is kneeling in front of him, there's no room left for anything other than what they've already agreed on. All Sebastian wants is Jim, and the noises Jim is going to make as Sebastian whips him. Without thinking about it, Sebastian pulls the belt taught between his hands, testing the durability of it. The subtle noise makes Jim smile, almost smugly.

It surprises Sebastian that Jim can look so comfortable when he's been put in that position - on his knees with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyesight taken from him completely. It's the same position Sebastian puts people in for very short interrogations; when all he wants is to intimidate a name out of them, and then dispose of them quickly. That smirk is not a look he normally sees on people put down in that manner.

Jim doesn't normally look this open, either. There's something about how obvious it is that Jim has chosen to be in this position that gets Sebastian going, something about how his boss – who can talk people into killing themselves, just for sport – has decided to give all of his power up to Sebastian. This isn't an execution; this is on purpose. Sebastian feels a first twinge of arousal at that, and it's then that he decides that it's time. All the terms have been negotiated, the safeword is in place, Jim is in position and Sebastian is more than ready to begin.

He stands up, slowly sliding out of bed, and reaches out for Jim, just barely touching his lips with a thumb. "Open up, boss," he says, and Jim immediately does as he's told, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out cheekily. It makes Sebastian smirk. He doesn’t take the offer to have his thumb caressed - rather, he rubs the leather against it, letting Jim have a taste. It only takes him a moment to catch on, to start licking it eagerly. The sight has Sebastian twitch for more, and he turns the belt in Jim's mouth, giving him a chance to bite down; letting him assess the material as well as he can without the use of his eyes or hands. Just like when he makes his victims suck the gun, except Jim moans where they cry, bites s though he never wants to let go where they beg for it to end.

“Thank you, Sir,” Sebastian says, and Jim lets go instantly, licking his lips to catch the little dribble of saliva that would've otherwise made it down his chin. One day, Sebastian thinks, he's going to have Jim in a gag, so that he can use Jim's drool for lubricant and jack off onto his face, but today is not that day. Today, all Jim wants is pain, so today, all Sebastian does is deal it out.

“Alright there?” he asks as he steps around the man, moving until he's facing the back of Jim's head. Jim doesn't even attempt to follow the motion, not with his eyes and not with his ears; he stays on his knees, hands behind his back, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” he breathes, head oscillating on his shoulders, “oh, yes.”

“Good. Let's get you in position, shall we?”

Sebastian has never been so gentle when in the business of dominating someone before, but he can't say that he minds it one bit. Even watching the movement of the muscles in Jim's back is fascinating, and as Sebastian bends Jim over – one hand on the top of his head to make sure he doesn't bump it against the bed – it occurs to him that he's never felt this perverted before. Hurting someone he hates is natural, hurting people he's neutral to is enjoyable... And hurting someone he loves, it goes against his very nature. It ought to rub him up the wrong way, but as he guides Jim's hands away from the small of his back and forward, to help him brace himself against the floor, there is nothing even resembling discomfort in the room. There's none inside of Sebastian, and there's no trace of any inside of Jim, either.

“I’m about to begin, Sir,” Sebastian says, and Jim makes a soft noise in agreement, just like they’d planned. He doesn’t use his safeword because he trusts Sebastian, and Sebastian doesn’t push for Jim to plead with him to please don’t, because they’ve agreed all stage dressing is unnecessary. It is what it is, and they both know that.

The first lash lands on the side of Jim’s back, just above his hip, at a nice angle. He moans, and Sebastian knows that he’s done well. It’s different, trying to hurt without causing injury, but listening for sounds of approval isn’t much different from listening for sounds of desperation. Jim seems pleased, so Sebastian goes on, mimicking the lash on the other side of Jim’s spine. He’s holding back because he feels like he has to, but down on the floor, Jim groans.

“Harder, Moran,” he says, so Sebastian hits the same spot once more, this time a bit harsher, and Jim’s groan changes character and he hisses out, softly, “yes.” So Sebastian does it again, a little higher up – and again, on the other side. It takes effort to not slip into Basher mode, to not break skin, but he manages it, just like he’d promised he would when Jim didn’t quite trust him yet. Just like he promised, even though he didn’t quite trust himself. He’s glad to find that they were both, for once, wrong.

After a while, Sebastian loses himself into the pace of it, unthinkingly keeping to his tempo and his gradually increasing force. It’s as though the whole world shrinks to just the two of them, and the noises Jim makes fill up the entire room. It’s like nothing Sebastian has ever experienced before.

He keeps hitting Jim until Jim begins to cry. It’s a soft sob at first, barely noticeable, but Sebastian has worked Jim’s back over three times by then, and he’s expecting his boss to break soon. It feels like an eternity has passed, and Jim let him know in advance that he wanted to cry. Why, Sebastian has no idea; he truly doesn’t understand how anyone could enjoy pain. He doesn’t need to understand, though. He just needs to do as he’s told, so he drops the belt on the floor.

“Are you alright?” he asks, out of breath. Jim only gives a harsher sob in return, so Sebastian approaches him slowly. Jim’s positively shaking by the time Sebastian kneels down beside him. Hesitantly, he puts a hand on his boss’ back. When Jim doesn’t seem uncomfortable, Sebastian moves it gently back and forth. It surprises him how easy it is to stick to the plan, but he realises he shouldn’t be surprised at all. This is Jim Moriarty, after all. It’s a rare thing for Jim’s plan not to work.

“Come on, boss,” he says, “let’s get up in bed, yeah?”

Jim nods, so Sebastian assists him in getting up onto the bed, just half a step away. It’s still made from the maid’s visit, so they end up on top of the comforters, Jim in Sebastian’s arms. This, he hadn’t expected, even though he’d been told it would happen. It had seemed such a foreign concept, affection with Jim Moriarty. It might not count as affection with the way Jim is crying, though. More like life support.

Slowly, they both calm down. When Sebastian has come back from his killer state of mind completely and Jim has stopped crying, they remain on the bed none the less. Rain patters softly against their windows and the tourists stroll by underneath them, just as always. The Christmas lights are twinkling through the droplets, and Sebastian is fairly sure that it’s past midnight, now. He still doesn’t say it. This isn’t a celebration, and Jim doesn’t do intimacy, that much he knows, so he keeps the quiet joy slowly filling him up to himself. Maybe, he thinks, Jim is experiencing something similar, too.


End file.
